by Crystal Lacy
Kissed in Paradise
Valentine’s Inc. #9
Crystal Lacy
Copyright © 2019 by Crystal Lacy
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
This book contains sexually explicit material and is only intended for mature readers.
Edited by DJ Jamison
Proofread by Lori Parks
Cover Design by Vicki Brostenianc
Contents
Prologue: Cary
1. Cary
2. Fei
3. Cary
4. Fei
5. Cary
6. Fei
7. Cary
8. Fei
9. Cary
10. Fei
Epilogue: Fei
About the Author
More Valentine’s Inc. Books
Also by Crystal Lacy
Thank you all!
Prologue: Cary
I gathered my notes and stuffed everything into my bag, glad our group meeting was over and I could finally haul my ass home. Beside me, Gemma leaned in, one hand deliberately placed on my forearm.
“Gonna give me a ride home?” she asked, batting her eyes flirtatiously at me.
I groaned inwardly. Gemma was great. Warm and smart and pretty. She always smelled so nice, and she was clearly interested. Had made her interest known for a while now. It was pretty much inevitable that we’d be doing this.
“Sure, I can give you a ride,” I said, because the sun was already setting and I didn’t want her to have to walk home or catch an iffy bus. “Uh, I’ve got to stop by the boys’ locker room and grab some shit first though. How ’bout I give you my keys and you wait for me in my car?”
Good. Give yourself some time to think. Figure out how to turn her down without being an asshole. Because Gemma was a friend, was really a great girl, and I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, even though I knew I was going to have to.
“Yeah, sure,” she said, holding out her hand for my keys.
“Know which car’s mine?”
I felt another twinge of guilt when she flashed me a playful smile. “Yes, I know which one.”
“Kay. See you there. I’ll be quick.”
The walk from the class room in Building H to the locker rooms next to the football field was long enough that by the time I got there, I’d already worked out what I was going to say. Gemma, you’re great, and if I were any other guy, I’d be making out with you in the backseat of my car right now. But I’m not, and—
And what? If I knew why I was so disinterested in Gemma—in pretty much everyone I’d dated in recent memory—maybe I’d be able to finish that sentence.
As I stepped into the locker room, a soft sound made me blink and refocus my attention on my surroundings. It was hours past the end of practice and I was surprised anyone was here. Even the coach and the custodial staff had gone home.
Someone muttered something. I thought I recognized that voice. It was Dax—Daxton Hutch—
one of the linebackers on the team. Easy to recognize his voice because his locker was right next to mine. He was muttering something under his breath, panting a little. I was close to turning the corner to the last row of lockers before it hit me what was happening. Before I had the chance to double back, because I was not about to interrupt, I heard what Dax was saying, loud and clear in the enclosed space.
“Yeah, man. Take it.” Followed by a low, rumbling groan that was decidedly not feminine.
A guy. Dax was with a guy. I froze for a moment, and then, instead of backtracking like I’d intended, my feet decided to take me silently around the corner. Where I saw them. Dax still fully clothed, but with his jeans sagging on his hips low enough to show his crack, and Fei Li straddling a bench in front of him, mouth around his cock.
I’d recognize Fei anywhere, and not just because of his shock of violent purple hair or the amethyst stud in his right ear. There was that defiant glint in his eye, like he was daring anyone and everyone to mock him if they dared. There were also those glasses he wore like battle armor, with rims he’d look over when some jerk made a rude comment during phys ed, and it would seem as though he were looking down at the asshole from above.
Fei had fascinated me for years, and in that moment, as I watched his eyes flutter closed and his lips slide down on my teammate’s dick, it hit me that the fascination wasn’t at all platonic. It couldn’t be, when the sight of Fei sucking cock made my knees that weak, made my own cock swell and push against the fly of my jeans.
Oh no, now’s not the time to get hard.
Luckily, Dax was still muttering softly to Fei, which seemed to help with my problem. “Fuck, yeah. Suck it.”
Jealousy and desire surged through me in tandem, making me clench my teeth, My brain was telling me, Go, go, leave! but my legs refused to move. I stood there like an idiot, watching as Dax’s hips began to jerk forward, and he moaned something about being close.
A soft hum came from Fei, the sound shooting straight to my cock, and then he gripped Dax’s hips and pulled his mouth off. His lips were swollen, but he was smiling, smiling up in amusement at Dax.
“Yeah, so not gonna swallow your cum, big guy,” he said, the rasp in his voice sending shivers down my spine. He stroked Dax with a steady grip, and then licked a line up the underside of Dax’s cock, at which point I felt myself take a step forward, or maybe back—maybe to escape. And there. Fei’s eyes tracked the movement in the periphery, wandering across the room until they landed on me.
Shit. Shit shit shit.
I caught a brief flash of emotion in his eyes that seemed to mirror the panic I felt. It was replaced almost instantly by a sardonic curl of Fei’s lips. “What, are you waiting for a turn?” he asked, pinning me with an assessing stare.
Oh my god.
“Holy fuck,” Dax’s exclaimed, yanking up his jeans and falling back against one of the lockers. “Shit, dude. Cary. What’re you doing here?”
I had to force myself to take in Dax’s words, because it was tough not to just stare at Fei, with his red, spit-slicked lips and his mussed up purple hair, and think about anything but his words from a second ago. Waiting for a turn?
“No,” I choked out. Yes yes yes. “I’ve gotta… I’m gonna go now.”
I pretty much ran out of there, ignoring the half-hearted calls from Dax. Before I got out of earshot completely, I did hear Fei’s lazy, amused voice saying, “Just relax, okay? It’s not a big deal.”
Except it was. It was a big deal, because now I knew for sure why none of the girls I’d dated had ever held my interest. Now I knew why Gemma, as beautiful and sweet as she was, wouldn’t ever be someone I wanted to kiss in the backseat of my car.
Gemma, in person, met me in my car, frowning as she took in my flustered appearance.
“Everything okay?” she asked after I slid into the driver’s seat and jammed my key into the ignition.
I shook my head, then nodded, then just groaned and turned to face her.
“Gemma. You’re great, and if I were any other guy, I’d be making out with you in the backseat of my car right now. But I’m not, and it isn’t fair of me to continue our friendship with…expectations
on the table, do you know what I mean?”
Gemma, pretty, blue-eyed Gemma, blinked at me. She licked her lips, eyes sad, but still open, still friendly and sweet. “You mean it’s never going to happen between us?”
I shook my head.
She only turned to stare out the windshield, sighing and pushing hair behind her ears. “Worth a try, right? You’re just so cute.”
“Yeah. I, um. Friends?”
She looked back at me, flashing a too-bright smile. “Of course. And I’m still asking for rides home.”
“Still giving them to you.”
“You’ve got someone else you like?” she asked later, when we were only a minute or two from her house.
I thought about Fei Li straddling the locker room bench, tipping me a careless smile with his hands still gripping Dax’s hips. A hot flush crawled up my neck. “Uh. I dunno. Maybe. It’s not… I’m not sure yet.”
Maybe I wasn’t sure about Fei, but I was sure about one thing: I’d never reacted to girls—even really cool girls like Gemma—the way I had to Fei earlier. And it suddenly became very clear to me why.
I’m gay.
Chapter One
Cary
Upon exiting the plane and making my way to baggage claim at Daniel Inouye International Airport, I turn on my phone. There are a number of messages waiting for me. Naturally, the first two are from Bas.
Bas: Your four-day tour guide, prepaid by me. Happy V-Day, bestie. I’ve arranged for an airport pick-up, so just hang around and wait for him.
I shake my head, laughing. It’s just like Bas to use his considerable trust fund for something like this. He convinced me to take time off and fly in early for the job interview. Better to spend Valentine’s in paradise than be stuck at home watching Netflix. Go kiss someone on a beach, Care, he’d said. Now he’s even hired me a tour guide.
Cary: Thanks. I suppose it’s nonrefundable?
Bas’ reply comes quickly.
Bas: No cancellation within 24 hours. Just enjoy, damn it. No stressing out and overthinking this interview.
Cary: Easy for you to say. You’ve never had a job interview in your life.
I wince then. It isn’t nice to rub that in Bas’ face. He took over the family business as a matter of course and still finds it hard to get the board of directors to take him seriously.
Bas: You’re feeling bad about saying that now, aren’t you? I forgive you. Now do me a favor and stop worrying. They wouldn’t be flying you out if they didn’t want your incredibly fine ass.
My incredibly fine ass that’s alone on Valentine’s Day, I think, staring at the date displayed on my phone. It’s been five months since my ex, Brandon, ended things, and I’m not any closer to finding a new person than when we first broke up. I haven’t had time.
The sight of my suitcase on the luggage claim carousel snaps me out of my thoughts. I hurry to fetch it before it rounds to the other side. Okay, luggage retrieved. Now I just have to find this so-called tour guide Bas hired to babysit me. For four whole days. The thought dismays me, but also makes me a little relieved. Maybe even excited. I’d get to explore the island with someone who knows it. I wouldn’t be alone on Valentine’s Day in a strange place. Sure, it isn’t like having someone who actually cares for me, who wants me. But maybe having a tour guide would help with the loneliness. At least for today.
I dial the number Bas texted me earlier. For the tour company, he’d said.
“Yeah? Is this Cary?” the person on the other end of the line asks.
“Uh, yeah. Hi. I was told you’d be waiting for me?”
“Yup. Sorry, man. I was running a little late because of the fucking traffic. I’m turning into the airport right now. You’ve got your stuff already? Wanna meet me right outside of baggage claim?”
“Sure.”
“There should be a number for the Baggage Claim terminal you’re at. That’ll help me find you.”
I glance around and find the sign. “Baggage Claim F.”
A chuckle from the voice on the phone. “Of course. Okay, I’ll see you soon. I’ve got a blue Honda HR-V. Excited to be in Hawaii?”
“Yeah. Is it all right for you to be talking while driving?”
“Got you on speakerphone.”
“Oh,” I say, relieved. “Yes, I’m excited. It’s kind of my first real vacation, unless one business trip to Florida counts.”
“Depends on how many nights, I guess. I’ve never been to Florida.” The man clears his throat. “So, Cary. That’s a pretty rare name for a guy.”
“Yeah. My mom was really into Cary Grant.” Made telling her I was gay a whole lot easier. I just led with, Hey, you know how Cary Grant was really into guys?
“I had a classmate in high school named Cary. He was team captain of the football team and all the girls and guys crushed on him.”
Huh. “I played football in high school too.”
Just then, a blue Honda stops in front of me, and there’s a sharp intake of breath over the phone.
“Fucking hell,” the man on the phone rasps. “It’s a small world.”
“What...” I don’t finish my question because the car windows come down, and sitting in the driver’s seat is Fei Li. Older and, God, buffer, and with slightly shorter hair, but that is definitely the same Fei who featured in way too many of my jerk-off fantasies for me to even count when I was a teenager. What is Fei doing here in the middle of the Pacific?
Fei nods at me, a smile curling his full lips. “Cary Jackson, right?”
“Right,” I manage to get out. Fei’s wearing a sleeveless T that shows off arms which have definitely gotten more muscled since high school, but he still has long, gorgeous eyelashes and full, sensual lips, and dark eyes that seem to be able to see into my dirtiest fantasies. I haven’t quite forgotten that image of him, straddling the locker room bench, his hands gripping Daxton Hutch’s hips as he tilted his head and asked me, What, are you waiting for a turn?
But I really, really need to not recall that particular memory right now.
“Think you can get in, Cary?” Fei asks, still looking faintly amused, batting his deadly eyelashes directly at me. “That lady over there is giving me the stink eye.”
To my surprise, he puts the car into park and gets out, popping the trunk on his way out. “I can do it,” I say as he reaches for my suitcase to roll toward the back.
“I know you can do it, big guy,” he calls back, chuckling. “Jesus, you still look like you could lift me, and I’m not as scrawny as I was in high school.” No, I think, watching the good part of his jeans-clad ass not obscured by the hem of his T-shirt. God. Fei never wore clothes like that in high school. “Which, by the way, is how I know you.”
I blink. “Yeah, Fei. We graduated together.” And you sucked my teammate in the locker room once. All right, no more memories for me. “You weren’t scrawny,” I blurt, and immediately regret it when Fei, clapping the trunk closed, turns to stare at me over the hood of the car as he rounds to the driver’s side again.
“No?”
No use in changing the subject since we’re already on it. “Nah. Lean, maybe. But you didn’t look like you’d be easy to break.”
Fei laughs. “Nope. Definitely not easy to break.” A flash of something in his eyes makes heat shoot up my spine. I step forward and almost trip over my own carry-on. Fei notices and frowns. “No room for that in the trunk, but you can stick it in the backseat.”
“All right,” I say, letting my gaze slide away from his face. I stow the carry-on, noting how nice Fei’s car smells. Then I pull open the passenger’s door and take a seat.
“All right,” Fei says, taking a sharp inhale before starting the car again. “Let’s get this show on the road, huh?” He cuts an amused side-glance at me. “Honestly surprised you even remember my name.”
“Of course I know your name. We were in the same classes since the third grade.”
“Your memory really is good.”
And Fei i
s the guy who made me realize I was gay in the first place. You don’t forget your first crush as a gay man. Even if he weren’t, I don’t see how anyone forget Fei. He just isn’t forgettable. Everything about him screams memorable.
Or maybe that’s just because you spent six months staring at, fantasizing about, and jacking off to him.
Okay, probably longer than six months.
This Fei isn’t the same Fei as the one from ten years ago who was the star of all my fantasies, though. His hair is a natural brown-black now, cropped short on the sides and left longer on top but much shorter than it was back then. I still want to reach out and run my fingers through it.
Don’t be a creep, don’t be a creep, don’t—
I’m still wallowing in mild self-condemnation when Fei’s question breaks through my thoughts: “How did I never know you were gay?”
“I’m sorry… What?” I didn’t say anything, did I? Did he see something on social media? I’m not in the closet, but not many people back home know about my sexuality since I only came out after I was in college. When my parents asked me if I wanted them to “make an announcement,” I told them it wasn’t necessary. Wasn’t like I planned to go back to my hometown for more than occasional visits for the holidays.
So how did Fei know?
“Wait, am I wrong?” Fei spares me a quick glance at the stoplight. “You bi or pan? The profile didn’t give me all that much info.”
“Huh? Profile?” Now I’m wondering if someone stole my identity and opened up a Facebook account.
“For the ad you posted. On Valentine’s Inc.”
“Hold on. Valen— Aren’t you the tour guide my friend Bas booked me for the next four days?”
